Astral
by MordorTrackTeam
Summary: Based in an alternate time line were the original X-Men team and the latest generation coexist, a new mutant has discovered their powers through tragic events. How will Jamie cope with these new found powers, and the idea of sexual identity?


**Chapter 1**

The beating of the heart monitor was the first sound he heard. Faint mumbling echoed in the distance, then the sound of wheels cutting across tile came through. All these sounds he recognized, but didn't understand why he was hearing them. It was just darkness around him, while the sounds faded in and out of consciousness.

He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. It was like trying to turn a lamp on to lighten the dark room, fumbling your hand around in the air knowing that it was near, but not finding it. Never making the connection, he laid there, motionless. None of his extremities would move when he thought about it. He couldn't even force himself to breathe, even though he could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and the hard plastic tube forced down his throat.

Panic attacked his mind, and quickly went for the assault on his body. As his heart rate quickened, his brain shut down into darkness. The last sounds he could distinctly hear were the scared whispers from his mother begging him to come back, and the light sizzle of a defibrillator paddle warming up…

What felt like a life time past by, as foggy images past in front of him. He could see what looked like a hospital room, and people shaped shadows walking past. Nothing was coming through clear, thought. It was as if he had water in his eyes and couldn't wipe it away. He could see only one bed in the room, with an occupant that looked strangely familiar.

That recognizable darkness wanted to take him back into his mind again, but he wanted to hold on to this moment as long as possible. Once again, he tried to move his limbs, thinking that if he could walk closer to the person in the bed, he could see more distinctly. As hard as he struggled, all he could manage was to lift two hands up to his face, but the hands he saw weren't like the ones he knew before…

Clarity broke through again, after an undistinguishable amount of time. The room came in more clearly than before, but he was still left with little lighting to help. The sunlight fought through the curtains, only to reach the foot of the bed. Unlike before, there weren't people passing around, only the sleeping resident was left.

Commanding his feet to move forward was still a struggle, but this time around he found success. It was like trying to walk through a room filled waist deep in water, but he never lost his balance. Much like time, the distance was hard to measure, and he was sure he just walked a mile across that hospital room.

He arrives to the side of the hospital bed, expecting to find the person whose room he had just wandered into. What he did see, however, was Himself, lying there, bruised and stitched up in some places, but still recognizable. Panic shot through his body, and the monitors on the wall responded diligently. Beeps and alarms went off around him, while breathing became harder and harder to control.

The haziness was coming back again, but he didn't want to escape it this time. He wanted to fall into it, to forget what he had seen. But before he left to the darkness, shadowy forms of doctors and nurses rushed in from the doorway. They crowded around the bed like a curtain closing at the end of a play…

His world came back, clearly focused. Standing from the same spot as before, he didn't need to take a step closer to see. The body in the bed was still his. The tubes and wires still strapped him down, and a deep sleep kept him unaware of his surroundings. The clock on the wall let him know the day was just starting, but there wasn't a calendar around to let him know the day, or even the month. If he thought back hard enough, he could remember the beginning of summer. But the most recent memories, ones before the hospital, weren't coming back for some reason.

Was this death? Was this what it was like to have died, and become a ghost? He didn't feel dead, in fact he felt more alive than ever. Only at first the world felt like a drug induced dream, like when he had a wisdom tooth removed and the oxycodone gave him surreal visions in his sleep. However now, his body felt solid on the group, and moving wasn't a struggle.

Curiosity lead him to wonder about the room, and find something that might tell him how long he had been in this state. When his hand reached for his mother's purse on the chair, it went through it. He tried to grab for the phone resting on the table, but the results were the same. _Maybe I'm not dead, maybe none of this is real?_

He reached to touch his doppelganger in the bed, but his hand didn't phase through, not immediately. His hand rested on the chest, and a faint purple glow emitted from the contact. Warmth funneled through his hand, and he jerked it away before anything else could happen. He had to go somewhere else, looking at his own body was too disturbing.

Turning to run out the door, a woman stood opposite of the room. As if seeing himself lying in a hospital bed dying wasn't odd enough, this woman wasn't wearing any clothing. Her look of shock and confusion paralleled his own.

A nurse walked into the room carrying a bag of clear liquids. At this moment he realized that others couldn't see him, nor the other woman. If the nurse could see them, she needed to change professions to acting, because she showed no interest in them. But it was the nurse that helped him see clearly that the unclothed woman was not actually there.

What he was looking into was a mirror, which was made apparent as the nurse walked past, disrupting the visual in front of him. He looked down at his hands, which lead his view even further south. His body was that of the woman looking back at him from the mirror.

The nurse finished her task and walked out of the room, leaving him to investigate further. Up close to the mirror, he could see every pore, every freckle, every line placed on her face. She was definitely a woman, but her features matched his completely. She looked like she could be his sister, honestly, but not even twins match this identically for different genders.

She was beautiful, and he couldn't stop starring at her. He ran his fingers over his new face, pleased to know that they wouldn't phase through like with the purse and phone. Memories of his life flashed before. Moments like this, of staring into the mirror dreaming of seeing the vision he had before him today.

Painful times came back too. Feelings of discomfort around the other guys in the locker room, not wanting them to see him change or declining invites to pool parties and beach trips in fear of having to show his body to others. His body he had and hated so much before, now laid in the bed across the room, barley breathing and pumping blood. His joy was soon scuffled out with guilt. How did this happen to him? How was he going to fix it?

Just then his mother came back into the room, carrying a cup of coffee and a handful of tissues. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she carried a smile on her face. "Hey tough guy, did you miss me?" Sitting down in the open chair, she waited for a response. Knowing that one wouldn't come, she continued on with the conversation. "The coffee they provide here is just awful, but I guess they imagine since we get it for free, it's better than nothing. Honestly, I'd take the nothing, if I weren't so darn addicted to the stuff."

A jolt of happiness came through him as he saw his mother still holding onto her sense of humor. "I think I might hit full-blown addict status if I came in here with a flask filled of the good stuff." She pantomimed unscrewing a flask and tipping her head back, flicking her wrist back and forth to let the invisible liquid fall out.

He had to laugh at the sight of his mother, the woman who couldn't stand drinking more than half a glass of wine at dinner, pretending to drink from a flask like some 19th century vagabond. She leaned further back into her chair and took another sip of coffee. "It's not very right of me to make jokes like that, I know." His mother had always been the type of woman to be more concerned about other people's feelings, that she never let herself express her own.

"Your sister was asked out on her first date, so that's all we've been hearing about lately. 'What am I going to wear? What are we going to talk about?' I asked her if she really cared for this boy, and she said no, but it would make her look more desirable to other boys at school if they knew she was available to date. Can you believe her thinking that? Where does this girl get it from?"

That sounded exactly like his little sister, always trying to get attention, whether it was positive or negative. If this was her now, only at 13, he expected it to worsen in the coming years. "The doctors told me that if I talked to you, there was a chance you'd hear me and help you come out of this coma. Of course I asked 'What sort of stuff should I talk to Jamie about,' and the doctor said 'anything he might connect with,' so I asked him, 'so should I start with Velcro or magnets?'"

Those were the sort of jokes Jamie was use to from her, and he loved them. No one else in the family appreciated her corniness like he did. It crushed him to see her like this, fighting to keep a smile and good humor about her, while her son lay sick in a hospital. "I asked your dad if he had anything he wanted to say to you, but you know how he can be sometimes… he just said to let you know Cleveland won, 7 to 3." Of course his father would bring up something that Jamie had absolutely no interest in. The only way Jamie's father would be able to know what he was interested in would be if it were written on the scoreboard of some basketball game.

She sat silently for a while before reaching a hand out to his. Jamie felt it, even though his body was distant from his cognizance. "I just miss you so much. Please, come back to me." This was a sight Jamie couldn't stomach. Seeing his mother in so much pain, and him being so defenseless to stop it. She was so close, it was like he could feel her warmth reaching out, even the smell of her coffee was traveling through the void. He wanted to hold her to let her know he was there, but even when trying to place a hand on her shoulder, it fell through as if she was made of smoke…

Jamie's reflection still took him by surprise. It had been several hours since his revelation, and since his mother left for work. Seeing this new body was astonishing, but completely confusing for him. He practiced touching items across the room, with no improvements. He tried talking to the nurses and doctors as they walked in, but none responded, leaving him alone to himself when they left and shut the door behind them.

Jamie was becoming stir-crazy trapped in the room making no progress. He decided it was time to see what the rest of the hospital looked like. Stepping up to the door, Jamie started by pressing his hands through, and slowly inching his legs, torso, then head to follow. Life was quietly buzzing by as people went along with their day.

At first it took a few seconds for the new world to come into focus, but once Jamie grasped a handle on the situation, he ventured out. He recognized the nurse from earlier in the day behind the desk. He noticed her name tag reading "Connie", and an engagement ring on her hand. Jamie was always slightly envious of the fact that women's engagement rings could be more visually stunning than men, but he also never saw himself getting married to anyone so it never really matter to him. Those previous worries and thoughts felt so juvenile to him now, now that he didn't even know if he was alive or not.

Around the corner of the hallway came an elderly man trying to walk on his own, using his I.V. pole for support. Connie noticed him waddling by with his gown back wide open. "Mr. Stevenson, let me help you," she requested.

"I don't need no damn help," he snapped back. This didn't deter her persistence, "Sir, you really need to still use the walker, you've just come out of surgery".

"I'm doing fine," he interrupted, "I made it this far on my own, I'll make it back on my own too!" Something caught the corner of Connie's eye and distracted her from Mr. Stevenson's rant, and at the worst time imaginable. Just as she turned, the elderly patient lost his footing and started to head downward.

He reached with his free hand for something to hold onto, but his decent had already past the railing on the wall. Out of instinct, Jamie reached his hands out to catch the man. The effort seemed useless, considering they were standing yards apart. Somehow though, Mr. Stevenson's decent stopped in its tracks, his face a mere inches from the ground. Both he and Jamie held their breath, afraid of disturbing the balance found between them. Jamie lifted his hands upward, bringing Mr. Stevenson's body to its original position. Now that he was steady on his feet, Jamie let go of his mental grip on the elderly man, and was able to finally inhale again.

Connie no longer enveloped in her previous business, turned back to Mr. Stevenson, unaware of the phenomena that just occurred. "Then again, I think I will need some help back," he sheepishly said to the nurse. She took him by the elbow, and the two walked in the opposite direction.

Jamie was left mesmerized by what just occurred. Only the sharp voice coming from behind could pull him out of his thoughts. "What do you think you are doing?" Jamie simply turned toward the noise, not believing the question was meant for him. However, a very aggravated nurse stood before him, starring quizzically into Jamie's eyes. "Umm, I'm sorry?" squeezed out from Jamie's mouth, sounding unlike the deep, pubescent voice he had grown accustomed to hearing.

"What in heaven's name do you think you are doing? Where are your clothes young lady!?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she wrapped Jamie up in a gown quickly, and looked for someone who might be looking for a naked run-away. "You can see me? You can touch me?" Jamie's voice sounded so young and innocent. Much different from what he had expected it to sound like based off his reflection.

"Yes, of course I can see you! What room are you in? Where is your wristband?" The nurse scavenged Jamie's body, trying to find some identifier as to where he belonged. If only he know the right answer to give her. "My room," he stammered, "is that way," Jamie pointed down the hallway toward his room.

"Oh, I know which room you're in then," she replied, walking with a firm grip around Jamie's arms, as if he might run off in a streaking escapade. "There are only two patients this way, and I know who is in the other room," but the nurse kept walking down the hallway, passing the room Jamie's body was residing. "Why did you take your gown off anyway?" she asked, not even looking him in the face while doing so. "Um, I don't know?" was all Jamie could muster out before starting to feel the world around get fuzzy like before. The nurse replied, "You must be on some strong med's then," but the words were echoing from her lips now. Her hands felt more and more distant, as the hallway's lights began to dim upon them. Jamie seemed to be the only one to notice this, however, or was even the only one to be afflicted by this occurrence…

Jamie came back to reality, if it even was that, in the hospital room again. The gown hadn't disappeared from where the nurse originally placed it on his body, if it even was _his_ body? The nurse saw and touched him! He was here, and not just some ghost. In fact, he was able to do something incredible, using his mind. The nurse called him young lady, though. Was it the shock of being seen for the first time in days that took Jamie aback, or was it the particular pronoun use? Either way, Jamie was excited, and ready to see what else was possible.

From the hallway, Jamie could hear some commotion, and some arguing from a familiar voice. "I swear! She was just here! I'm not making it up!" It was the same nurse as before, the one who clothed Jamie and accused him of being off his head from drugs. "I was holding her, and then all of a sudden, I wasn't, and I looked over, she was gone!" Jamie kept from opening the door too wide, in fear that the nurse might see him again and ask more inquiries he didn't know how to answer.

"Deborah, maybe you just need to take the night off, it's okay if you need a break," came the voice of a man who did not try to hide the fact that he wasn't ready to deal with this amount of drama for the night. Jamie could only assume it was another nurse, or doctor, trying to get through the shift with as little disturbances as possible. "No, I can stay on, maybe I'll just take a break," responded Deborah, without caring to give a convincing speech of one who is over it, and ready to move-on.

The hallway cleared of the crowd, and Jamie took this as the opportunity to adventure out. From the room's vantage point, the elevator wasn't far away. Getting to that point wouldn't be hard, but finding some decent clothes would be. Next to the elevator was a door that read, "Staff Break Room". If there was a chance to change clothes, it was in there. Jamie reached for the handle on the door, and for once in dismay, made contact with it.

He gently pushed through, and checked if anyone was inside. Luckily, the room was empty, and not occupying horny med students like so many T.V. dramas portray of hospital break rooms. Instead, Jamie found lockers, and within the first one hung a pair of men's jeans and a flannel button up. Naturally, he reached for them to put on, but stopped to think. _This is what the Jamie I use to be would wear, but this isn't what I always wanted,_ he thought. In the next locker hung a woman's dress, and even though it would have been three times too large for Jamie's current body, he still would not of warn it. _I don't think I'm ready to go there yet, I still need to know what is going on here._ Instead of either option, Jamie managed to find an extra pair of blue scrubs, and took a pair of sneakers that fit surprisingly well.

For some reason, walking through the lobby made Jamie feel so alive. It must have been being around so many people after being alone for so many days. Or possibly, it was because it felt like he was sharing a secret with the world that he never expressed before. At the gift shop past the lobby, Jamie could smell fresh popcorn exploding into life within the machine. He realized that he hadn't felt hungry at all during this experience, but that didn't stop him from wanting to try the treat. Although Jamie didn't have any money to spare, he did see this as an opportunity to try that trick he did before with Mr. Stevenson.

Jamie found a secluded chair near the shop and looked around for any witnesses. From here, he focused on one of the kernels on the top. At first, he noticed a movement, a slight shake. More and more around it started to follow, and he thought it was actually working, he was moving it with his mind! He soon realized it was just the machine empting a bag full from the bottom for a customer. After that slight set back, he went back into focusing on a new area, this time, he lifted his hands up, and used them as a visual reference for what he wanted his mind to accomplish.

The kernel began to levitate, but fell back into place once Jamie lost focus from the shear excitement of what he was accomplishing. He went at it again, but this time, didn't allow himself to become distracted. Jamie could only compare the current sensation to that of trying to lift a box that isn't necessarily heavy, but is so awkwardly large, it is hard to find a good grip. After playing a mental game of tug-of-war, it turned into a game of Tetris trying to find a way to maneuver the buttery treat out of the machine. When it finally did maneuver its way out, it floated through the air, like a leaf gliding across a rippled lake. Once it inched close enough to his arm's reach, he snatched it from the air before anyone could see.

Expecting it to taste as amazing at it smelt, he quickly pressed the kernel into his mouth. But there was nothing. He could tell that there was mass in his mouth, and he could chew the material away, but no flavor came from it. The rest of the popcorn to follow would become increasingly easy to manage, but increasingly disappointing, as the results of each test would be the same as the first. He even tried a peppermint he snuck by from the information desk candy bowl, but no taste was coming through. Voices from the television quickly cut into his thoughts on what else might be affecting his taste buds.

The news was reporting over an attack on a train by the Brotherhood. The young blonde on the screen went on to explain, "They meant to steal $45,000 worth of ground breaking technology from a government transport, but were outsmarted by the X-Men. Police were unable to stop the mutant Magneto and his accomplishes, Mystic and Pyro, but the mutant avenging group stepped in to thwart their plans. No word yet on what the specifics are on the technology in question, but we'll keep you up to date with further information."

The rest of the news faded out of earshot, as a plan developed in Jamie's head. His newest objective was to seek out the X-Men. If anyone could help him understand what was happening, it would be them. With determination, Jamie bolted for the door, but just as quickly as the plan had developed in his head, something stopped him dead in his tracks.

It was his mother coming in through the glass doors. She managed to come prepared this time with her own coffee, minus the flask. Jamie didn't know what to do. He knew she wouldn't recognize him as this person, but he still wanted to run up to her and explain everything, hug her, cry with her, something! But before he could decide what to do, she walked right past him, not even noticing his existence.

That was because he didn't exist, not at the moment. He managed to phase himself out to where no one could see him. A man carrying flowers and a balloon walked right through him. _I've got to get a handle on these powers._ Before he could even embark toward the answers, he had to figure out where exactly to find the X-Men. It wasn't like their secret hide out was public knowledge.

He could go to his mother and try to explain what was happening? But, what about him being a she? How could he explain to his mother that he was actually a tall, gorgeous, ghost woman? Not the awkward teenage boy like he was meant to be. _Meant to be?_ He thought, _How can me being in a coma 'be meant to be?' How on earth could my mother help me out with any of this? I need to fix this myself, and fast, to ease her burden of this._

Jamie closed his eyes and thought and being solid, about being grounded and not hazy like he would feel when he was invisible to others. That seemed to work, because a small child bumped into his leg from behind, causing him to stumble forward. "I'm so sorry, dear," said the woman holding the hand of the child, "Ben, watch where you are going." The statement took the look of puzzlement off his face and replaced it with defensiveness. "But I was momma, I didn't see her before."

The mother's exact words didn't come through to Jamie any more, they had walked out of the hospital's doors by then. Deciding to follow pace, Jamie went outside as well, seeing if old fashion wandering might bring him ideas.

The people and cars hustled around with their daily agendas and quotes needing to be meet. Jamie never realized how quickly people walk around, even when it didn't seem like they had a destination to go to. Seeing so many pedestrians about was almost dizzying to him, and it was starting to feel like sensory overload.

Before he realized it, he had lost the way he was going. The buildings and signs started to look the same, the details of passer byers faces were smudged out. _Why do I feel so messed up right now?_ The situation was pressuring Jamie backward, into the street were cars were commuting. Horn blares and skidding tires around him didn't help him find recovery. A yell from within a near by crowd helped Jamie focus in on the source.

It was the woman from before, with her son. For some reason, they were the only two things that seemed safe. But her warning didn't come to him quick enough. From the corner of his eye, Jamie saw two yellow eyes racing toward him. Trying to recapture the interaction that occurred before with his mother in the lobby, Jamie closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

And then pain. Strong, forceful pain spread throughout his body…

Like turning on an old television and letting the light spread from the center of the screen out toward the edges, Jamie's world came back into view. This time, it was the familiar setting of the hospital room, where Jamie's original body lay. He wasn't looking any better than when Jamie left. There were more tubes coming out from him now, and his eyes looked sunken in his face.

He remembered seeing something similar to this at a museum once, in the ancient Egyptian exhibit. Pictures of excavated mummies lying peacefully in their sarcophagi suddenly seemed to juxtapose the sight before him. _Oh shit, I really am dying!_ Before the panic could hit Jamie too quickly, the local newscast caught him off guard once again.

"They're saying it's the ghost of Highmore Hospital. Apparently, several witnesses claim to have seen a young woman, wearing nurses scrubs, hit by a taxi cab in front of Highmore Hospital, but when the driver stepped out of the vehicle, there was no body found. Other witnesses claim to have seen her look confused and upset, stumbling into the street. Police looked around the parameter, but have found no signs of an incident."

"See, I told you!" came a voice from the hallway, making only a slight effort to whisper what she was saying, "That is the same girl I saw yesterday! The naked one." It was the nurse from before who tried to escort Jamie into a patient's room. Apparently, it had be a day since Jamie's escape plan failed.

"Yeah, but this girl was wearing clothes, ghosts don't have wardrobe changes," counter argued another voice.

"Well, this one does, and I've had it up to here with this establishment as it is, I ain't dealing with no ghosts either! I'm putting in a transfer to St. Marks!"

"That might all be for the better," retorted the new speaker, seeming to have already given up on the conversation.

Peering through the doorway, Jamie could see that past the two bickering nurses stood his mother and a doctor talking over a folder with graphs and x-rays in it. The doctor's face looked sympathetic, but whatever he was saying made his mother look forlorn. Prepared to walk out to hear what was being said, Jamie took the time to fully phase himself out, but just as he felt himself almost there, the two started walking down the hallway, this time his father appeared along with the group. Seeing him lead Jamie to panic and lose focus. He hurriedly hid himself in the closet, allowing himself more time to focus on disappearing from view.

The doctor opened the door for the two, and asked a nurse passing by if she could bring some water. His father reached for the remote to turn the television off, while his mother reached for his open hand to hold. "Please, have a seat," requested the doctor. The parents obliged, and waited attentively for his next command.

"I know this is all a lot to take in, but the fact of the matter is, your son's condition is weakening. It's been a week since the initial accident, and his vitals are not showing any improvements. In fact, with yesterday's seizure, we aren't sure if he can handle another episode like that." If it weren't for the stoic nature of his father, Jamie was sure his mother would have fallen apart at news like this. But she remained together, and only allowed a few tears to fall down her cheek.

"He is still showing brain activity and the swelling has reduced tremendously, but his other organs are having a hard time keeping up like they should," continued the doctor, "at this point, it is a question of do you want to prolong his suffering for a small chance he can pull through, or do we want to end it now and stop any further pain?"

There was a breath of silence in the room. Jamie had no idea of what his parents would say to this, but he wasn't expecting the response that followed. "Get out." At first it came as a whisper, but still audible from inside the cupboard where Jamie hide. "I said, GET OUT!"

This time, Jamie was sure the whole floor heard him. It was precisely at this moment the nurse cracked the door open with the pitcher of water the doctor had asked for. "I'll let you have the time to discuss it," he said, as he walked toward his escape and ushered the nurse to follow behind quickly.

Large displays of emotion were never his father's M.O. The most excitement he'd ever seen of the man was at a baseball game where he caught a fly ball from the home team, leading him to smile and wave at the billboard's camera. Seeing him react like that even left his mother shocked. "John, you didn't have to do that, he is only doing his job," said his mother.

"Is his job to kill our son, because that is what he is suggesting right now," retorted his father, with the same level of hostility as before, but in a quieter tone.

Taking offense to his statement, she replied, "He is just informing us of the facts, he is not telling us what we should do,"

"Then how can he even suggest giving up on him?" interrupted John, "Does he think we'd just give up so easily on him, without even trying?"

"Without even trying?" This time, it was his mother who showed hostility in her voice, "He's been here a week John, we've been going through so many procedures and tests, each one taking us further and further away from an answer. What part have you been doing in this, John?"

"Oh, don't throw that on me Marian, you know what I've been doing. Whose going to pay for these bills if we are both her moping about."

"Why can't you for once stop thinking about how a situation affects you, and think about how it affects other people too."

At this, she didn't even try to hold back her tears. She walked toward the window, bringing her closer to where Jamie had been hiding. Her once young and vibrant face now actually looked like the age she was, and her frustration helped to clear the tears away from her eyes. Recollecting herself, Marian continued the argument, "Why won't you tell me what he said to you before he left?"

The silence only sharpened the tension already in the room. "I have a right to know what the last words were that my son said." The end of the sentence nearly chocked her, but Marian refused to lose ground on this. This question was one that even Jamie couldn't find the answer to. He realized now that the passing of time he had been feeling was way different than what was actually happening in the world, but recalling his most recent memories was like trying to remember the words to a song that you had only heard once.

"I can't take these accusations, I'm going back home. Don't talk to that damn doctor again without me!" John stormed out of the room, taking all of the air with him.

"Please, sweetheart, just talk to me!" His wife followed behind in the tail-stream of his departure.

And there they left Jamie, with only the sound of the heart monitor to fill the void of the room, and a parade of questions in his mind. _What could have happened that was so bad? Why is my dad mad at me?_

"Do you need help finding the room you need, sirs?" It was Connie. Jamie could recognize her sweet perform, and her even sweater voice, even from this distance.

"No, thank you," came the voice of man who held the airs of someone who grow up in much nicer conditions than what this city offered, "I think we found the room we are looking for". Next came the sound of rubber wheels gliding along the floor, and footsteps entering the room Jamie hid within.

"It's alright, you don't need to hide," came that same foreign voice. Jamie opened the door, and saw a man who looked like he was in his mid-sixties in a wheelchair and completely bald, being followed by another much younger man wearing sunglasses. He stood there stoically, with the presence that he was ready to pounce, should anything come his way. The other gentlemen sat calmly, with a tender smile on his face.

"You've been looking for someone who can help you understand what is happening to you," he said confidently.

It was hard for Jamie to hide the shock from his face, but he wasn't willing to let his guard down so easily. "I don't even know who are you? How did you know I was in here?"

"I found you the same way you found me. You reached out… _with your mind,… "_

How was he doing this? Jamie could hear the man's voice, but his mouth wasn't moving. The whole situation felt unnatural.

"I could feel your presence, even all the way in New York. Although at first it just came in waves, your mental connection finally stabilized, and I was able to learn where you live, and your current predicament." This time he used his mouth to speak, but the news he gave was less settling. "My name is Professor Xavier, and this is my colleague, Scott Summers," he continued, "and I run a school for young gifted students, much like yourself."

"When you say _gifted,_ like me, what do you mean?" Jamie asked. "Well, I mean mutant," the professor replied.

"Mutant? Of course it would be that, what else could it be, when the other options are purgatory or computer simulation generated by aliens," and then, sudden realization hit, "So, I'm guessing the X in X-men is you?" Professor Xavier seemed to find this funnier than Mr. Summers, which judging from his unchanging expression, was not at all.

He pressed on with his appeal, "You have an extraordinary gift, one of which I haven't come across quite like this before. Your mind is capable of harnessing so much energy, that it can project its own consciousness into a second physical body, along with the ability of telekinesis." The alien idea was starting to sound like a better scenario to Jamie now.

"Hold up, I know what telekinesis is, but harness my conciseness? What is that?"

"Well, it is why you are here, but also there," he gestured to the teenage boy lying in the bed, oblivious to the news impacting him.

"You might understand it better as a term known as astral projecting. Many ancient civilizations, and some still today, believed that there are two parts to a person: the physical body, and the soul, or mind, which resides within. For some, they achieved the ability to separate the two, if only for a short period of time. But for you, you are capable of doing so much more."

"Okay, let's say I'm buying what your selling, that I am able to…astral project myself… why am I this," by dragging his hands down from his head to his torso, he sarcastically displays his current female body "and not that?" He limply tosses his hand out toward the original Jamie for nuance.

"There were some who believed that the two bodies did not always align with one another. That the spirit was not suited for the body it resided in. It seems to me that your consciousness is not harmonious with your body, and is reflecting that through your astral projection."

Two random men showing up and knowing more about him than he knew about himself was not reassuring Jamie that he wasn't losing his mind. But the part about his soul not feeling aligned with his body… that was starting to connect for him.

For as long as Jamie could remember, he never felt comfortable with his body. It wasn't that he was clumsy; in fact he was a decent athlete. He just never felt at home inside his own skin. His consent frustration with receiving his brother's hand-me-downs was seem by others as jealousy toward his sister, who received fresh and new toys or clothes when she wanted. Really the contempt didn't steam from that, it was the fact that his sister had a choice in what she wanted. They were all beautiful and sparkly dresses, shoes with straps and heels, make-up, and toys that weren't war or sports themed. This felt like the person Jamie always wanted to be. It was like his true self was liberated from his former shell, but he was still shackled to it. "What does this mean, then? Am I going to be like this forever now?"

The professor gave his doubts that there couldn't be a way to heal Jamie's body. "At my institute, we have some of the finest minds and mutants who can help reconnect you to your body."

"Reconnect? Are you kidding me? This is like, a new start for me! I can go out and be who I want to be and not feel burdened by this town and its small mindedness."

"I appreciate you embracing your new found abilities, but the truth is, if your body doesn't wake up from the coma, you will die."

And that was the other shoe, dropping straight on Jamie's head. "So you're saying that the longer I stay like this, the sooner I will die?"

"Based from what the doctors have found and reported," Professor Xavier's eyes scanned across the room, monitoring the devices, "and how your body's responding to the treatment, yes, that will be the immanent outcome."

"Is that why the doctors want to stop treating me?"

"The doctors here have limited resources, and time is not on their side. But your chances of surviving improve greatly if you come with us, and let my team examine you."

It seemed like everything was falling into place. Out of this great tragedy, came the comedy of it all. Jamie needed the X-Men, and here they were. He has amazing powers, but he was slowly dying. Or, she was dying, it seemed.

"So I suppose, all along, I've really been a girl, and not a boy?"

"As much as we've discovered in our universe, there is still much humankind has yet to understand. Why do some of us have the mutant gene? Why are some of us born as a certain gender? It is better that we never stop the pursuit for answers, rather than except that the world just is."

Where were Jamie's parents when they needed to hear this man's speech? _Her_ parents. Man, how would they react to this news? Not only was there middle child a mutant, but a transgendered one at that. How was Professor Xavier going to convince her parents about all of this?

"You will find, that I am an excellent negotiator," answered the professor to Jamie's unasked question.

 _Duh, telepath over here!_ Jaime continued, "That's awesome and all, but I don't know if _I'm_ ready to being the news to them. I mean, I'm still adjusting to it myself."

Finally the silent stranger spoke up, "It may seem hard at first, but that is how every transition in life starts off. And if you give a level of faith to them, you might be surprised with the level of faith they can bring back to you." Even though Jamie couldn't see through the red tinted Oakley's, his voice carried a tenderness that was hidden.

"If you don't mind, I think I want some time to myself to think about all of this."

"That's fine. If you don't mind, my associate and I will take this time to speak to your doctors about the transfer." And as if on cure, the doctor from before came back in with more charts in hand.

"Excuse me, but what are you gentlemen doing in here, this is a private room."

"Well, we came to discuss a private matter. Do you have an office we can go to?" Without a rebuttal, the doctor led the two men out, leaving Jamie alone to her thoughts. She took the time to look at herself in the mirror again, but not too long after did the sound of approaching feet make her jump and phase out of sight.

It was her parents again. Somehow, her mom managed to get her dad to come back. John sat back down in his chair, carrying the weight of defeat and exhaustion. "I caught him, doing something," he began, "doing something he shouldn't of been doing."

Marian considered it might have been something about discipline, but was still confused on what her son could of done that was so bad, it would make him react so uncharacteristically. Hoping that her inquisition wouldn't distract him from his story, she asked, "Was it drugs?"

"No, no it was something different,"

"Well, tell me, how bad could it have been to make him drive off in rage and not see a truck coming?"

And then suddenly, flashes of memory started pouring in. The night of the accident started coming back to Jamie's mind…

Jamie was left home alone, which seemed to be a regular occurrence in the household. His older brother was training for track, and his sister was staying the night at a friend's house. Who knew where his dad might be, but his mother was at work, trying to earn extra hours to pay for a family vacation.

He took this opportunity to explore with an idea he was enveloped with lately. Although Kelsey was two years younger, they still seemed to have roughly the same body size. He had never really "filled out" as promised from the puberty videos shown in life science, but that never seemed to bother him. He was still physically agile enough for tennis and basketball, and he didn't care about attracting girl's for dates, so why would his slender physic bother him?

In the privacy of his sister's room, he picked out the first dress in the closet, and on his way out of the door, grabbed a handful of makeup brushes and a palette _._

Locked away in his room, Jamie explored the possibilities the dress and makeup could do to him. He lost track of time, and didn't hear that someone had come home early. He didn't hear the knock on the door, if there was one at all. He just heard the opening of the bedroom door. There was no time to hide, there was no place to fall behind to hide what he was doing from his father's eyes.

Then he heard the yelling, the questions, the accusations, all while he ripped the dress off and rubbed the makeup off of his face. Jamie yelled back to, but what was said didn't matter anymore. He just needed to get out. He through his jeans and t-shirt back on, grabbed the car keys and left. His father chased after him, but Jamie couldn't stand to look at him. Not after he saw the face of disgust his father gave to him earlier…

"He was, twirling, and smiling, and, I couldn't believe that this was happening to my family. I just thought, how ashamed our neighbors would be if they found out. 'I asked him how long have you been like this?', but he just said, 'for as long as I can remember.' I told him to get out, that what he was doing was not acceptable in my house."

He wanted to add more, but the words caught in his throat. This time, Marian spoke up, "That was why he left? Why he was so distracted in his car that he didn't even see… Are you so selfish, that you would let your own son die because of something as minor as that?"

John shot up at the accusation, his throat clear now to fight back, "Minor? Marian, he was dressing up like some homosexual and enjoying it, how should I be okay with that?"

"Because he was alive! Because he was breathing and talking and living, unlike now, where he might be a vegetable for the rest of his life! I'd take a thousand days of that, than one more of him like this!"

"Believe me, if I could go back in time and change the way things happened, I would. I constantly replay it in my head and wonder, 'What could I have done to prevent this from happening?' But I can't go back in time, all I can do now is fight for Jamie to get better, so we can try again. I can't lose my son, not like this."

"John, it sounds like to me we've already lost our son."

"What are you talking about? Why are you and that doctor so ready to give up on him?"

"I mean, if he manages to pull through, how can you imagine him to go back to life the way it was before? The doctor said if he wakes from the coma, he may never be able to function on his own. He may never be the same Jamie he was before?"

"What more do you want from me!" He exploded, and from the eruption came uncontrollable tears. Jamie could recognize that this outburst wasn't from anger like before in the bedroom, the night of the accident. This outburst was from fear, and from shame. Jamie understood those feelings, those were what lead Jamie to run away after their fight. She reached her hand out and placed it on his shoulder. It was a faint feeling, but warmth was radiating up her arm.

John gasped, and looked at Jamie lying in the bed. "What, what is it?" asked Jamie's mother.

"It's him. I feel him, with us. I don't know what it is, but I feel like Jamie can hear us."

"I can hear you, dad!" her voice echoed from her throat, "I'm right here with you!"

"I feel him too," came Marian from across the bed. She held on tightly to his hand, "Baby, can you hear us? We're here for you, please wake up."

 _I can do this; I can wake back up in my body again._ Jamie closed her eyes, and let herself drift into the open space around her. She floated in the air, and felt a cold darkness wash over her. Feeling confident that she achieved her goal, she opened her eyes again, but didn't see the hospital room around her anymore…

"He's flat lining!"


End file.
